Trust
by DreamsofSpike
Summary: Fourth fic in the "Leverage" Series. Wilson/House, dom/sub -- Wilson has taken House in hand to help him get control of his life, following the Tritter debacle. In this installment, he puts House through a test of his obedience and trust.


"_Take off your clothes."_

House froze at the quiet command, his mouth going dry, his stomach clenching with a mixture of fear and anticipation. His anxious eyes searched Wilson's face for any sign of yielding… but found none.

"So…" He kept his voice low to disguise the slight tremor it held. "… you're just going to stand there and watch… keep the advantage to yourself… while I get all naked and vulnerable for your amusement?"

Wilson's eyes softened with sympathy, but the determination in his expression did not fade as he began to move with slow, certain steps closer to where House stood. House visibly tensed at his approach, though he tried not to show the apprehension he felt.

This new, commanding side of Wilson was something with which he had no experience, and he had even less idea how to respond, or what to expect from him. It was hard to imagine Wilson actually doing anything to hurt him. But then, he had learned too well that no matter how well he knew people, they were always capable of surprising him – usually in the most painful and unpleasant way possible.

At any rate, his instincts told him that it would not be a good idea to anger Wilson right now.

He tensed, but didn't pull away as Wilson's soft, strong hands reached out to grasp his arms, running slowly up and down in a soothing motion as he held his gaze.

"This isn't about my amusement, or me having the advantage, House." Wilson's voice was soft, strangely calming, as he finally responded to House's nervous question. "This is a test. Of your obedience… and your trust. If this is going to work, House… you're going to have to trust that I'm not going to use the upper hand against you… not going to _abuse_ your trust. Okay?"

House was silent, averting his eyes for a moment before meeting Wilson's gaze again, clearly uncertain.

"My control is an illusion, House," Wilson explained, his words slow and emphatic. "Any time you want to walk out of this, you can. It's your choice."

"We just… won't be friends anymore if I do," House observed in a dubious, defeated tone.

"I've already told you – I won't watch you kill yourself, House." Wilson let out a weary, vaguely impatient sigh, though his dark eyes were filled with concern. "And I believe that this is your best chance of avoiding that eventual outcome." He was silent for a moment, allowing his sobering words to sink in. "So… are you going to give this a chance?"

House hesitated for a long moment, biting his lip, before finally relenting with a single slow nod.

"Good." Wilson gave him an approving, encouraging smile, raising a gentle hand to cup his cheek. His expression became serious as he continued in a quiet, intent voice. "From this moment… you're putting yourself in my hands. You'll do as I say, no matter _what_ I say… and trust that I won't do anything to hurt you. Right?"

House was quiet, considering, still hesitant.

_If it gets out of hand… if it goes too far… I can always walk away…_

But his silent self-reassurances were meaningless, because House knew that he couldn't walk away from Wilson… not knowing that he would not be accepted back again.

Still, he finally nodded, submitting to Wilson's terms.

"Good," Wilson nodded his approval, his hand sliding around to the back of House's neck to draw him down for a firm, assertive kiss. "Smart choice."

His voice was breathless when he finally pulled away, meeting House's eyes with an intent, possessive look of lust. His voice lowered, becoming dark and commanding as he lowered his hands and stepped backward, giving House room to move.

"Now take off your clothes."

House's hands were trembling as he unbuttoned his shirt, then slid it slowly back off his shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor. He kept his eyes averted, still uncertain and insecure with the lack of control he held over the situation, He swallowed hard as he unfastened his jeans, hesitating with his hands holding them low around his hips.

"Do it." Wilson's voice was quiet, soft and dark, pressing past House's fear and insecurity. "Take them off."

"Wilson…" House's voice was trembling, hesitant… pleading.

"House." Wilson's tone was warning, but his expression was gentle as he closed the distance between them again, his hands covering House's and slowly edging the jeans down lower. "It's all right. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

House let out a sarcastic snort, rolling his eyes, trying to take a step backward; but Wilson held onto him, not allowing his retreat.

"Trust me," Wilson softly urged him, "and do as I say."

House made no move to finish taking off his pants, but when Wilson began slowly sliding them down, he didn't resist. As they dropped to the floor, Wilson's hands rose, one resting at the back of House's neck, the other on his shoulder and sliding downward as he kissed House slowly, with tenderness and affection. House stepped out of the jeans as they fell, instinctively returning the kiss, his shaky hands finding Wilson's waist and pulling him in closer.

"See?" Wilson murmured against his mouth as he finally drew back. "Not so bad… everything's all right… right?" As he spoke, his hand traced the hard plane of House's torso until it rested below his waist, his thumb stroking in a slow circle along the line of his hip.

House nodded, breathless, his eyes closed, his forehead resting against Wilson's.

"Look at me," Wilson whispered, his dark eyes intent and searching on House's face as the older man obediently met his gaze. "Do you trust me?"

House stared at him for a moment before nodding again, hurriedly, recklessly.

"Good," Wilson whispered, lowering his gaze again as he slowly disentangled himself from House's arms, moving reluctantly backward until he was a few feet away. He met House's eyes again, his voice calm and reassuring, but full of unmistakable authority.

"Get on your knees."

House frowned, opening his mouth to protest, but Wilson spoke again before he could, addressing his objections before he could voice them.

"I _know_ it won't be comfortable. I know you'll need help to get up. But that's where you've got to _trust me_." He paused, giving House a rueful grimace and a vaguely apologetic shrug as he pointed out, "And if you can't handle a little bit of discomfort here and there… how are you ever going to get the Vicodin under control?"

House wanted to say that he really had no desire to "get the Vicodin under control" – but he was fairly certain that wouldn't go over well at the moment. He glanced around the room, looking for some source of support. He found the bed, and took a couple of shuffling steps toward it, using it and his cane to brace himself as he slowly lowered his knees to the floor.

Wilson smiled, moving toward the bed himself and reaching down to tenderly cup House's cheek, his thumb smoothing over his taut, anxious expression, looking down with reassurance into eyes filled with restrained panic.

"You're doing very well," Wilson assured him softly. "I'm very pleased."

His eyes, usually a pure chocolate brown, seemed a shade darker as he stared down at House with unbridled desire in his gaze, and House felt his mouth go dry with wary anticipation and excitement, his body beginning to stir in response to the undeniably erotic situation in which he had somehow found himself.

Wilson's mouth turned up in a slight smirk when he noticed House's arousal, fully exposed to his sight.

"I told you you'd like this."

As he spoke, he kicked off his own shoes and socks, unfastening his jeans with hurried, trembling hands, stepping out of them as they slid to the floor. He sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to snare House's mouth once more in an urgent, almost frantic kiss, his hands tangling in House's hair and holding his mouth to Wilson's until they were both breathless and gasping.

When Wilson drew back, he was pleased to see a haze of arousal and need in House's deep blue gaze. His hand remained at the back of House's head in a possessive, slightly restraining grip as he met House's eyes, his own serious and searching, and spoke in a hoarse, husky whisper.

"Can you do this, House? Can you submit to me completely?"

House knew what he was asking, and hesitated a moment. It wasn't as if he'd never done this before, wasn't as if he didn't know what he was doing – but this was different. This wasn't some random guy he'd picked up at a college party, or a hooker he'd forget after tonight.

This was _Wilson, _and this could change _everything, _and _God_, he wanted him _so bad_...

House made his decision in an instant and nodded hurriedly, shifting forward on his knees until he was positioned between Wilson's parted thighs. Wilson's hands in his hair guided his progress, stroking reassuringly when House grimaced at the discomfort caused by his shuffling motion.

"Good… good…" Wilson murmured encouragement as House edged forward a bit more with a hint of uncertainty – then abruptly lowered his head, taking Wilson's erection into his mouth without warning or preamble. "… good… gooood _God_, House, what are you… _God_…"

Wilson fell back onto the bed, supporting his weight with his arms, head back and eyes closed as he babbled mindless encouragement, overwhelmed by the sensations of heat and sweet, slick friction against his sensitive flesh.

House couldn't help a smile around Wilson's erection. His apprehensions and insecurities faded away for the moment, swallowed up in a sense of power and pride at the knowledge that he was able to reduce Wilson to such a helpless state in no more than an instant. It felt as if a little bit of the control he had relinquished to Wilson was, at least for a few brief minutes, back in his hands.

He drew back, lapping in teasing, light strokes around the head of Wilson's cock, chuckling softly at the whimper of frustrated need that left Wilson's throat. Apparently the vibrations from his quiet laughter intensified the sensation for Wilson, because his whimpers choked off abruptly into a strangled, keening sound.

"More," he gasped out, letting himself fall onto his back and reaching down with greedy hands to grasp House's hair, pulling his head closer, forcing him to take more of him into his mouth. "More, please, _now_…"

House gagged slightly at the unexpected intrusion, but quickly recovered, going with it, intensifying his efforts to bring Wilson to his climax. Within moments, Wilson seemed to lose control entirely, his hips thrusting desperately forward, his fists clenched painfully in House's hair as he held his head in place and brought himself off, filling House's mouth with the bitter salt tang of his spendings.

House immediately tried to pull away, but Wilson held him there a moment longer, rising up weakly on one arm to meet House's eyes. House's heart leapt in his chest at the dark fire in Wilson's intense gaze, as the younger man shook his head slightly.

"No," he softly insisted. "Swallow it."

House hesitated just a moment before obeying, and Wilson's head fell back again at the sensation of House's swallowing, with Wilson's softening cock still in his mouth. Wilson released his grip on House's hair, falling back against the bed, gasping for breath, as House fell back onto his knees, also struggling to catch his breath as he waited for Wilson to recover.

After a few moments, Wilson sat up with a silly, lazy smile, gazing down at House with admiring eyes.

"House… you're freaking _amazing,_ you know that?"

House didn't bother to suppress his self-satisfied smirk as he shrugged. "Never had any complaints." He kept his challenging gaze focused on Wilson's eyes as he continued slowly, casually, "You know. From the dozens of random people whose brains I've screwed out of their heads in the past few years."

Something dark and dangerous flashed in Wilson's eyes, but he smiled as he rose to his feet, reaching down to put one hand under House's elbow and the other around his waist to help him to his feet. He immediately kissed House again, a muffled moan escaping his lips when he tasted himself in House's mouth.

He drew back, laughing brown eyes looking House up and down as he teased, "And people think _I'm_ a slut."

"You _are_ a slut," House countered with a note of defiance, daring Wilson to try to subdue him.

Wilson smirked, his hands trailing idly over House's naked form, before yanking him in close to Wilson's body, one hand sliding possessively down to grope House's ass. "But _you're_ not," Wilson declared softly, holding his gaze. "Not anymore. You're mine, now."

"I don't know…" House frowned speculatively, blue eyes blazing with challenge. "You really think you can satisfy me?"

Wilson's eyes narrowed with a flash of anger, and House drew in his breath sharply as he grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked his head backward, sending electric tingles of pain through his abused, over-sensitized scalp. House stayed still and pliant as Wilson's mouth assailed his neck, kissing and licking and biting until House was trembling with need… and then drawing back to give him a cold, dangerous smile. Wilson's voice was very soft, and a little frightening.

"Let's find out."

He maneuvered House around so that his back was to the bed before removing his hands from his body and taking a step back.

"Lie down on the bed," he ordered with quiet composure.

House swallowed hard, a cold knot of apprehension forming in the pit of his stomach again at the calculated expression on Wilson's face. In spite of his uncertainties, however, House sat down slowly, wary eyes focused on Wilson as he drew his legs up onto the bed.

Wilson watched House, waiting until he was lying on his back on the bed to turn away and go to the dresser across the room. House couldn't see past him to know what he was doing, until he turned around again, facing House with a sly, secretive smile, holding up something in his hands.

House's mouth went dry, his eyes going wide as he saw two pairs of leather cuffs in Wilson's hands. He tensed, his breath quickening, a trapped expression appearing in his eyes. As Wilson climbed onto the bed on his knees, straddling House's hips, a slight shudder went through him.

His voice was hushed, trembling. "Wilson…"

"_Trust me_."

Wilson's voice was barely over a whisper as he met House's eyes, leaning down to kiss him firmly, grasping his wrists and pinning them to the mattress, the cuffs still dangling from his right hand. House was tense and unresponsive at first, but then warmed to the kiss, yielding and returning it as Wilson's tongue searched his mouth in a long, languorous caress.

Wilson left House breathless and gasping as he rose up again, buckling one end of each cuff to the posts of the headboard. He looked down at House again, reaching out to grasp his right wrist and bringing it toward the leather cuff hanging from the headboard. His effort was met with no more than the barest instinctive resistance, as House visibly tried his best to fight his fears and yield his body to Wilson's hands.

Once his wrists were secured, he couldn't help but test the strength of the bonds, his heartbeat accelerating when he realized that they were indeed sturdy… unbreakable. Panic began to creep in around the edges of his mind, and he jerked futilely against the bonds that held him, fighting back the frantic plea that rose in his throat when he realized the facts of the matter.

He was helpless.

"House." Wilson's voice was hushed, gentle, as he stroked a soft hand down House's cheek, meeting his eyes again. "You're safe. You can trust me. I promise you… if you don't want to do this, I won't force you to. I'll take these off right now, if you tell me you don't want it. All right?"

House nodded hurriedly, trying to catch his breath.

"It's all right. I won't hurt you. Okay?"

House nodded again, reassured by Wilson's words. The reminder that he could say _stop _at any time he chose to do so made him feel a little safer, and he resolved to at least give Wilson a chance, despite his misgivings.

And then, Wilson was touching him, trailing his fingertips slowly up the underside of his erection – and suddenly, House was beyond conscious thought, his fears lost in an overwhelming flood of sensation. His breath caught in his throat, his back arching upward in response to Wilson's touch. Wilson's low, dark laugh of amusement at House's reaction went straight to House's cock, and he bit back a groan of frustration and pleasure.

"Wilson… _God_…"

"Not quite." Wilson smirked. "But I'm flattered."

His expert hands trailed lightly up the insides of House's quaking thighs, a single fingertip forming a slow, lazy circle around the base of his erection. House's hips thrust helplessly up in a futile attempt to increase their contact.

Abruptly Wilson's hands became hard and unyielding, grasping the tops of his thighs and forcing him down against the bed. He leaned over House and closed his mouth over the side of his neck, biting down, hard enough to make House gasp with shock and alarm. He rose up, staring down at House through narrowed eyes. His voice was soft and warning, sending a shock of electric excitement straight through House.

"_Don't. Move_."

House bit back a strangled cry of need, his head lolling against the pillows, eyes closed. "Wilson…" he gasped out, stammering and stumbling over his words. "… touch me… I n-need…"

"I _know_ what you _need_," Wilson stated firmly, his fingers pinching the skin on the inside of House's thigh, a bare inch from his throbbing erection. "Stop trying to run this, House… because you can't."

House flinched at the sharp sensation that was as much pleasure as pain, writhing uselessly, helplessly pinned in place by Wilson's body, and the cuffs at his wrists. Wilson's hands held his thighs firmly as he lowered himself down the bed again, holding House's gaze the entire time. He kept his eyes locked onto House's face, even as he lowered his head to take House into his mouth.

"_Shit_… Wilson… _Wilson_…"

House gasped at the silken heat that suddenly surrounded his erection, bucking upward, though Wilson's strong hands held him in place, not allowing him much freedom of motion at all. Within moments, House was on the brink, babbling out urgent, desperate encouragement to Wilson as the younger man licked and sucked at him with torturously slow, teasing motions.

"Wilson… Wilson, _please_…"

The _please_ seemed to do the trick, as Wilson took House deeper into his mouth, swallowing around him and pulling him over the edge into oblivion. House's hands jerked against the leather that bound his wrists, a choked cry of pleasure escaping his lips as he writhed under Wilson's restraining hands.

House was barely aware of it when Wilson unfastened the cuffs, gently rubbing his slightly chafed wrists, pulling him into a tender, affectionate embrace. Gradually, House felt himself drifting back to earth, staring through dazed, hazy eyes up into Wilson's warm, calm gaze. Wilson's hand stroked slowly through his damp hair, holding him close as the remnants of his release shook through him.

"See?" Wilson whispered, placing a soft kiss on the patch of stubble just in front of House's ear. "I told you you could trust me. I told you you were safe with me. Do you believe me, now, House? I'm always going to do what's right for you… it's okay… it's all right…"

House nodded, breathless and silent, his forehead resting against Wilson's chest as the capacity for thought slowly returned to him. And the first thought that filled his mind surprised him, because it was contrary to every fearful thought he'd had at the beginning of the evening.

_Maybe… just _maybe_… this is going to work out. Wilson would never hurt me… Maybe… maybe this _once_… it really is safe to trust…_


End file.
